


Not Every Rebel Knows How to Party

by SaltyNightmares



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Rebelcaptain - Freeform, and cassian, and dancing, jyn has problems with parties, mostly just cassian, rcvalentine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 07:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9711047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltyNightmares/pseuds/SaltyNightmares
Summary: This is a valentine's gift for Sempaiko. I had so much fun with this! Thanks for the lovely prompt hun! Hope you like it <3It's amazing how much things change in a year. A year ago, Jyn was no one, though if you asked her today she would insist that she was still no one. Even as the entire Rebel base on Yavin IV chanted her praises or whispered about her skills. To Jyn nothing and everything had changed.While most jumped on the chance to drink and dance, Jyn would rather get back to work. Now add some cheap liquor, cheesy music and a tipsy Cassian. This night couldn't end soon enough.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sempaiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sempaiko/gifts).



Revel. Funny how changing one letter turned one thing from something one loved to something one utterly despised. Rebel, now that was something Jyn could handle. Undermine the Alliance council’s authority, no problem; Run away and hide from Imperial troops after witnessing her mother’s murder, no problem; Spend years in the galaxy’s ugly criminal underbelly, most of them with chains around her hands, no problem; Dancing, drinking and socializing; Jyn became a gasping fish being shot through the air, flopping around for mercy. 

Overnight, Yavin was filled from hangar to hangar, senators, leaders and soldiers from all over the galaxy. They all gathered for one thing, the one year anniversary of Scariff. Jyn had been dreading the date for quite some time now. In fact, she did her very best to make sure, headquarters sent her out on a mission that day. 

She roze early, making sure to have kept her last minute assignment a secret from rogue one. It wasn’t unusual for her to take off alone, even if meant answering an angered Cassian. Jyn just needed time alone. She snuck into the empty hanger and bee-lined it for their ship, an U-wing named after the stolen zeta-class cargo shuttle. The remains of which could still be found in the hangar, many young enterprising rebels had taken pieces of it for luck. 

As Jyn boarded the vessel and set down her bag, a voice rang out from behind her, “I see the pathetic life form is up early. It’s a 79% chance you are about to appropriate this vessel for an unauthorized purpose and a 21% chance you are going to lie about it.”

She threw her head back and her hands up in the air, “Good morning to you too, K-2.” Jyn turned to face the droid, who stood just outside the ship, staring up at her. Though his face never changed, K-2’s annoyance was easily read by Jyn. She sighed and put her hands on her hips, attempting to sass her way into leaving without K-2 telling Cassian, “We’re friends, right?”

K-2 didn’t move.

“Look, I just...need to go for awhile. It’s a short trip; I’ll be back by tomorrow. I won’t be missed.” 

At that moment, She felt an arm rest upon her shoulder and another very familiar voice, “Why is it that when you need to be up for a team mission, you sleep in ‘til it's over and when you need to run away and hide, you awake at the crack of dawn.” Jyn looked up at the man she had been trying so damn hard to avoid. 

“Cassian....Good morning,” she said sheepishly, “I don’t suppose you were also going out for this resupply mission?” Her plastered smile and attempt at joking seemed to be working wonders as the man removed his arm to cross them both over his chest and glare at her. She sighed and leaned against the side of ship, determined to glare right back, “I’m not a child, Cassian. I wanted to leave. You don’t get to stop me.” 

Cassian simply raised a brow and shook his head as if he had heard this speech before. “Do you remember what today is, Jyn?”

“Zhellday–”

“The one year anniversary of Scariff,” K-2 answered as the pair whipped their heads to look at him; Jyn narrowed her eyes threateningly while Cassian spoke patiently, “Yes, thank you K-2. Jyn,” he turned back to her. “You can’t run away from that. The Alliance needs you here. This is an honor, one you should not shy away from.” 

And with that, she threw up her arms and stormed off. Jyn hated it, all of it. The adoration from the rebels; they were too young to know how many lives were lost that day. The nods and praise from higher-ups; They were the ones that had refused to support her and her father’s plans. The constant reminders of everything she had lost burrowed in her side; the hero no one would ever speak up, her father. Jyn ignored Cassian’s calls and barricaded herself in her quarters. Internally, she admit the whole ordeal was very childish. But she argued forcing her to go to that ridiculous sham of a celebration just as childish. 

Time passed and the members of Rogue One found themselves in a new battle, trying to pry Jyn Erso out of her hiding hole. A battle quickly won by the smart thinking of K-2 who removed the door off its hinges. Even then, Jyn resisted. Though some choice words from Baze cleared her mind and she was compelled to join them. And, of course, the word ‘compelled’ is used as ‘forced’. 

The ‘celebration’, if one could even call it that, went as expected. Mon Mothma came out and spoke at length about sacrifice and the cause. Jyn felt disgusted and ashamed to be partying on the day of great loss. Drinks flowed freely as a live band played music. Rebels gathered and danced in the middle of the room. Jyn clung to the side wall, watching everyone, arms crossed over her chest, trying hard not to glare. 

It was at this moment that Cassian decided to put his plan into fruition and leaned on the wall next to her. 

Before he could open his mouth, Jyn spoke up, “Whatever you are thinking, don’t.”

He let out a soft laugh, “what do you think I’m thinking of?”

She said nothing, but Cassian swore he saw one side of her mouth twitch upward. 

Without warning the Captain grabbed Jyn’s hand and pulled out into the middle of the dance floor, several of their fellow rebels cheering them on. To her credit, she dragged her feet like a cat being pulled to a filled bathtub. 

“Adio mio, It’s like you’re made of durasteel.”

Jyn almost hisses at him, “No. Cassian, no. I’m not doing it. You can’t make me.”

“No mames, amiga. We are already here. May as well.” He takes hold of both her arms and forces her to move like a marionette to the beat of the music. Jyn thrashed about, of course. To the people around them, it looked like she was playing along. A chorus of laughter rang and the music picked up. Cassian, himself, was having a hard time keeping his chuckles in check. 

Jyn had enough. Using all her might, she throws off Cassian’s hold on her and storms off. A few people take notice and whisper among themselves, but most continue to dance and drink. 

Cassian curses under his breath for a second and runs off after her. The rest of the Rogue One were watching from the corner. Bodhi starts to head off in the same direction, but Chirrut stops him. 

“Stay.” 

“But–” Bodhi stutters wanting to make sure Jyn was ok.

“This is something they need to work out. Let Cassian handle it.” 

Bodhi nods and instead wanders onto the dance floor. 

Humiliation, anger, sadness, spite; these emotions swirled inside Jyn creating a cocktail of disaster waiting for a quiet space to be unleashed. She couldn’t quite point to a certain event or aspect of tonight that had set her off. Perhaps it was the rebels who couldn’t stay in their own lanes or the higher-ups who paraded around like Scariff had been their own invention or the asinan speech Mon Mothma gave, hailing Rogue One as heroes while slinging mud in her father’s name or perhaps, most of all, it was how easily she let Cassian in, how quickly he had pulled her out of her shell and even when her own discomfort exceeded his enjoyment, Jyn let him continue. Perhaps this realization hurt her the most; she was willing to do anything for that man. It scared her. Tonight scared her. Tomorrow even more. 

It took no time at all for Cassian to find Jyn, unsurprisingly, in the cockpit of their ship, halfway ready to launch. She threw a wrench at him and backed away. He dodged it and moved closer. Never of them spoke nor was this exchange new. They’d been through this before. 

Finally Cassian addressed her, “Jyn.” 

Jyn had been chewing on the inside of her cheek and chose to leave the statement hanging. 

“¿Casita, que esto? What’s wrong?” Cassian tried again. 

Jyn let out a tired breath and plopped herself in the pilot’s chair, bringing her knees to her chest, “everything.” 

She had barely whispered it but Cassian knew. He took the copilot’s seat, facing her, “Jyn, please, tell me. Did I do something wrong?” He could feel her exterior chipping away and her true face clawing itself to the surface. 

She did the only thing that felt right, something she hadn’t done in a long time. One could almost it had become a yearly event. She got up from her chair and looked down at him for a moment, her eyes glazed over in some unmeasurable fashion, and finally, wrapped her arms around Cassian. Her face buried into his neck, back bent awkwardly, though that seemed to be the least of her concerns. “I think I’m in love with you,” she murmured as if thinking aloud, the words fresh and foreign on her tongue. 

As Cassian wrapped his own arms around her, the words felt the aftershock had hit him once again. It wasn’t surprising, hell, he’d seen it a mile away, when he had been nursing the same feeling for quite some time now. No, he wasn’t shocked by her declaration. He was shocked that she was saying it aloud. Their relationship wasn’t one of words and he wasn’t going to be the one who changed it, so instead, Cassian pulled Jyn away from himself. For a moment, they stayed there, a few inches apart staring into each other’s eyes.The declaration hung in the air, suspended by the uncertainty of their unspoken feelings. Cassian closed the gap and poured out his response through the tender movement of their lips. 

Back at the celebration, the crowds of Rebels gathered around as the pyrotechnics teams prepared the firework shows. Chirrut clung to Baze and breathed into the taller man’s ear, “They’re so beautiful, almost as much as you.” 

Baze shook his head and replied, “They haven’t started yet.” 

He pouted and tightened his hold on Baze, “spoil-sport.”

“Shameless flirt,” Baze leans down and pecks his husband’s needy cheek, “satisfied.” 

Chirrut nods and gets on his tiptoes for more. 

At the same moment, Bodhi found himself next to K-2SO. The man looked to the droid, “You know they never let us watch the pyros as kids on Jedha.” 

K-2, continued to stare off in the distance, “for good reason, I’m sure. There’s a 32% chance of the fireworks causing some of the present party injuries.” 

The pilot nods and returns to watch as the display begins, hoping Jyn and Cassian have worked out their issues. 

Bodhi wish was granted, albeit a bit unnecessary. Jyn had planted herself in Cassian laps, their embrace growing messier by the second. The far off sounds of fireworks lighting Yavin’s sky could be heard. Though, neither payed it any mind. The rebel and her captain were far more interested in reenacting their ‘hug’ on Scariff, a fitting tribute to end off the night. 


End file.
